“Thanks, dude,” Noah said, swallowing hard against the sudden lump clogging his throat. But he couldn’t go there now, not with so much on the line. He needed to get Serena and the baby safe first before he dealt with any emotional fallout. “Talk to you soon.”
Noah ended the call, then headed back up to the room to check in on Gracie. When he walked in, he found Serena and the owner leaning over the baby who was asleep on the bed, their voices hushed and their expressions concerned. His pulse tripped with worry. From what he could see, the baby was sleeping and her little face had a slight greyish tinge to it. He was no expert on kids by any means, but that didn’t seem good. The knots in his gut tightened.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, hovering on the threshold for fearing of doing something to make things worse.
“The baby needs a humidifier,” the owner said, glancing back at Noah over her shoulder. “To ease her breathing.”
Well, shit. It was one thing to run down to the drug store when you were in a big city. It was another to conjure one from thin air in the middle of nowhere. “Where the hell do we get one of those?”
“My husband can take you into town,” the owner said. “I’ve already called the ph
armacy and they have one on hold for us.”
Relief swept over him in a rush. At least one problem seemed to be manageable today. Except, once he’d endured an hour-long ride over bumpy terrain in a pick-up that seemed to lack anything resembling shock absorbers, he was starting to think he might need to get more than just the humidifier at the pharmacy—he wanted to buy some antacids for himself.
The owner’s husband waited in the truck while Noah went inside the small pharmacy to pick up the humidifier. While he waited in line to pay, several other customers were close by chatting in quiet Spanish. Instincts on high alert, he discreetly tuned in to their conversation as he stood there, thinking maybe he could pick up intel on what was happening in the area and maybe news of any bounty hunters in the town.
Unfortunately, all he heard were their concerns about the gang problem affecting the small village and how the level of violence locally had spilled over from the bigger conflicts in Frederickston. Gangs weren’t unusual in South America, especially with the cartels, so he wasn’t that alarmed and had no reason to the think the activity was in any way connected to him or Serena. But then the two women went on to mention that one of the local gangs was looking for an escaped American woman with a baby and his blood froze in an instant.
“Buenos días,” an older pharmacist with grey hair and leathery skin said to Noah from behind the counter. His white lab jacket contrasted sharply with his deeply tanned face as he asked Noah how he could help him.
Noah blinked at the guy a moment, his mind racing. Behind him, the two women continued going on about how the village didn’t want to get involved in any of that, but their clear disinterest didn’t do much to decrease his sense of foreboding. Staying in the village made Serena and Gracie’s safety tenuous at best. He hadn’t failed to notice that he was pretty much the only white guy in town at the moment, which meant he stood out. In fact, one of the two women behind him caught Noah’s eye now and then turned away fast to whisper to her friend something Noah didn’t catch.
Shit. Just shit.
He hurried up and got the humidifier, then hustled out of the pharmacy and back to the truck. He didn’t want to endanger these villagers any more than he wanted to risk Serena and Gracie’s lives. As they bumped their way back to the bed and breakfast, all Noah knew for certain was that they needed to move again, as soon as the baby was well enough. That was the only way any of them were going to stay safe.
12
Two and a half hours after he’d left, Noah walked back into their room to find Serena in the rocking chair, holding Gracie and humming to her as the baby slept. Serena looked as on edge and stressed out as he felt, her hair tangled and shadows beneath her lovely eyes.
He walked over and set up the humidifier on the dresser, then filled it with water and pulled it in close to the chair, the quiet stream of vapor oddly comforting in the silent room. Then he moved to stand next to the rocking chair to peer down at Gracie. A bit of color had returned to her tiny cheeks, though she was still paler than he liked.
“How’s she doing?” he whispered to Serena.
“About the same,” she said, turning worried eyes up to him. “I’ve been holding her since you left since she cries whenever I put her down. But my arms are aching and I’ve got a crick in my neck. Can you take her for a little bit?”
“Oh. Uh…” Noah’s eyes widened.
“Please?” Serena said, standing up carefully so as not to jostling the sleeping infant. “I just need a minute to myself. Here.”
Before Noah could protest, she thrust Gracie at him. It was either grab her or drop her and he sure as hell never wanted to do the latter. In fact, he’d started having nightmares about accidentally dropping the kid on the floor or somehow otherwise injuring her. He’d told himself that was probably normal father stuff, right? Now he wasn’t so sure.
Still, he had little choice but to cradle his baby daughter in his arm while Serena headed for the bathroom. “I need a long soak in the tub to ease my muscle aches. If she starts crying again, try singing to her. She likes that. I’ll be out in a bit, if you need me.” She stopped and looked back at him. “And thanks for picking up the humidifier.”
Noah stood there blinking at the closed door for a moment before gazing down at Gracie. She was scowling in her sleep, her little face wrinkled and red, like she was mad at the world. Or at him, for dragging them through the stupid jungle. Man, this was all his fault.
Shoulders slumped, he sank down into the rocking chair just as the baby stirred, fussing and squirming, though not a full-blown cry yet, thank goodness. He rocked more vigorously, hoping to head off a complete meltdown. He’d gotten her to stop crying before, he could do it again, couldn’t he?
Singing. Serena had said Gracie liked people singing to her. Except the only songs he knew were from heavy metal bands and not really appropriate for infants. Great.
Think, dude.
He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to remember a tune from Sesame Street, anything that might make his daughter feel better since her fussing was edging closer to a rip-roaring cry now and there was no indication that Serena would emerge from the bathroom anytime soon. So yep. This was on him.
In the end, he went with one he knew by heart. Not a kid’s song, per se, but it had child in the name anyway. “Hey, baby girl,” he said, bouncing Gracie slightly to get her attention. “You want daddy to sing you a song? I’m not very good, but I’ll give it a go. Yeah? Would you like that, huh?”
Gracie stopped squirming and stared up at him with what Noah could only describe as adoring wonder. His heart swelled to near bursting and he suddenly didn’t care if he sounded off-key and foolish. For more of that look from his daughter, he’d turn cartwheels on his head while whistling Dixie.